


A Bucket and Spade

by goatmagic



Category: Homestuck, Temporary Flight Attendant
Genre: ??? - Freeform, Accidental Voyeurism, Alcohol, Anal Sex, BUT NOT IN AN OMEGAVERSE WAY IN A YIFF WAY, BUT NOT REALLY THEY TAKE THEIR ALCOHOL WELL, Barebacking, Dom/sub Undertones, Drunk Sex, Homestuck Ruining People's Lives, I AM SO SORRY IF YOU KNOW ME AND RANDOMLY FIND THIS, Identity Issues, Knotting, Light Bondage, M/M, NOT A CORE PART BUT IT'S THERE!, One Shot, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Porn With Plot, Rough Sex, Simultaneous Orgasm, THE INTRO HAS ENOUGH PLOT THAT IT MADE ME UNIRONICALLY START SHIPPING THESE TWO, THIS PAIRING IS THE RESULT OF RNG!!! HOW, Tentacle Dick, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, Troll Genitalia (Homestuck), Vaginal Sex, Verbal Humiliation, tipsy sex, uh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:47:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27252898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goatmagic/pseuds/goatmagic
Summary: Tragedy thinks about Homestuck.
Relationships: Bec Noir/Tragedy (Temporary Flight Attendant)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	A Bucket and Spade

**Author's Note:**

> ONCE AGAIN. I AM APOLOGIZING IF YOU KNOW ME AND ARE RANDOMLY FINDING THIS

Tragedy walked through the island. Technically, he should’ve been sent off by now, but… well, McKuma wouldn’t’ve cared, but A.S.S. did not want Par Airlines to get sued for letting Comedy push Tragedy over the docks. And, it’s not like Tragedy had anywhere to go, so he might as well try to grab a place to stay.

He sat down. Comedy… no, no, wait. _Komade_. It was still… weird to think about. Komade was his cousin. Honestly, Tragedy still considered him his cousin. Although it was… weird. Him snapping was already unexpected, and, don’t get him wrong, was what he mostly thought about. But… he was also a Troll. As in, the ones from Homestuck. This was incredibly baffling, considering how little he knew about the comic. Really, all Tragedy knew about Homestuck was from Bec.

“...The fuck are you doin’ here?”

...Oh, speak of the devil.

“Didn’t you lose round one?” Bec eyed Tragedy suspiciously. “Goddammit, you better not be some fuckin’... 0-2 boss. What do you even have in common with Madden n’ I’s sourcelists, anyways?”

Tragedy looked upwards at Bec. Bec was looming over him.

...Tragedy felt… strange about it, but chalked it up to fear.

“No, I ain’t. Just managed ta’ come back here ‘cause of some arrangements. ‘Sides, there’s already been a Comedy n’ Tragedy boss. Doth thy memory fail you?” He quirked an eyebrow.

“Nah, I just don’t pay attention to other contestant’s rounds. I already know who I’m goin’ up against, why should I care about some guy’s boss fight in Winner’s semifinals?”

“...’Cause they’re thy co-contestants. Thou shalt encounter more problems like this in the future if thou don’t pay attention.” Tragedy leaned back.

“Eh,” Bec shrugged, “Guess I don’t care.”

Tragedy rolled his eyes, before he brought out his palmhu— _mobile phone_ , and showed Bec the Killer Klowns track. He listened, before saying…

“You two are _Trolls_?”

Oh. Oh dear. No, no, Tragedy does not want to think about that.

“Well, er, Come— or, uh, _Komade_ is, but I ain’t.” Nailed it.

“...How?” Bec looked like he was both mildly annoyed and genuinely bewildered.

“Well, I mean…” Tragedy paused, and thought for a moment, before continuing. “...Honestly, I don’t know. I mean, I know I sure ain’t a Troll—“ he felt a bit of fear when he said that, as if he were saying something very incorrect — “—I don’t really know anythin’ about Homestuck, ‘sides from stuff thou hast shown.”

Bec blinked. “So, what, you found this random guy that claimed to be your cousin n’ just… accepted that? N’ then started flyin’ to who the fuck knows where?”

“...” Tragedy took the information in. He didn’t remember a lot of what happened, beyond what Komade had said, anyways. ...He’s not letting Bec of all people find out, though. “Our family’s very large. It ain’t outta the ordinary ta’ have some cousins thou don’t know about. N’, well… family’s family, after all.”

Bec blinked. “You’re gonna die.”

“Nearly did.”

“Was it the clown?”

“Yep.”

“...This is only a shock for you. You are the only person surprised by this.”

Tragedy put his head in his hands. “Look, I get it, alright? Shame on me for carin’ about family, I guess.”

If Bec had pupils, he would’ve rolled his eyes. But, he didn’t, so he just started to walk away. Tragedy brought out some whiskey, and Bec stopped. He sniffed the air a bit.

“...Should’ve taken you for a whiskey guy.” Bec walked back towards Tragedy. “Always preferred moonshine, myself.”

Tragedy looked up at Bec. “...Th’ain’t gonna leave me alone for a second.”

“Hey,” Bec said, “always up to drink with random people I’ve barely interacted with.”

Tragedy squinted. “Hey, if you’re gonna be drinkin’, might as well do it at my place. No one likes to see a drunk guy out in public, n’ no one likes bein’ the drunk guy out in public. …’Least, they don’t when they wake up tomorrow.” Bec said.

“...Didn’t thee just lecture me on stranger danger?”

“Yeah, but I ain’t a stranger. I’m a co-contestant.”

“...” Tragedy sighed. “Fine.”

And so, they left.

One thought stood out in Tragedy’s mind upon entering Bec’s cabin. That thought being, _Holy shit, Bec loves purple_.

The entire room was decked out in Derse’s signature color palette. From the bed to the tables to the chairs to the computer… it was all purple.

“What, did thee spill purple paint all over the place?”

Bec quirked an eyebrow. “No, this is just what Derse looks like.”

“Why’s Derse so purple?”

“...” Bec looked bewildered at the question. “How much’d you drink before we got here? It’s like askin’ why the Earth is all blue n’ green n’ brown n’ shit. I don’t fuckin’ know.”

Tragedy shrugged, and sat down. “I don’t know, guess I just assumed there was some big, complicated reason fer’ why Derse is purple. Ain’t that how most things are in Homestuck?” He took a swig of the whiskey he brought.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t apply to everythin’ in it.” Bec said, taking out some moonshine.

They sat there, and drank for a bit, not really knowing what to say. They hadn’t really talked that often, so they had no idea what to talk about.

After drinking in silence for a fairly long period of time, Tragedy appeared to look okay. Bec looked over at him.

“ _Shhhit_ , you can take your alcohol.” Bec slurred.

Tragedy made an affirmative noise. “Comes with the business.”

“...What business?” Bec replied.

“Bein’ a cowboy.”

“That’s not a business.”

“It is ta’ me.”

Bec blinked. “Don’t you have an actual job? You’re a fffuckin’... actor or some shit, right?”

For a moment, Tragedy didn’t reply. He thought he was, and he had memories of being one — albeit, very loose, vague ones, but memories, nonetheless. But, honestly, he wasn’t sure anymore. Ever since Komade was revealed, he wasn’t sure of anything. The messages Pufferfish had shown before didn’t help.

“...You ther—“

“What’s it like.” Tragedy interrupted.

“...Huh.”

“Bein’ from Homestuck, I mean.”

Bec paused. Despite being drunk, he wasn’t stupid. ...Honestly, despite his demeanor, he wasn’t stupid. He was smart. He knew why Tragedy was asking.

“...Well, I don’t think I can help you with what you’re askin’ for. I’m a Dersite, not a Troll.” Bec paused.

“...I know they got fucked up blood.”

“...Huh?” Tragedy said.

“Well, I mean, they got… multicolored blood. N-not as in rainbow blood, but different Trolls got different blood colors. The most normal blood color’s considered a mutation, so, if I were a Troll, I’d be fuckin’ dead.” A swig. “Other than that, though, the most similar blood color t’mine is burgundy, which is… much darker than the typical red blood creatures got.”

Tragedy felt a strange sense of panic. ...No, not a genuine panic attack, or anything. It was… more of a feeling of deja vu. A deja vu he didn’t like.

Bec paused.

“...Y’think Trolls got weird genitals?”

Tragedy nearly spat out his drink. “W-what?”

“I’unno. It’s just — they’re aliens, right? Maybe they got weird genitals.”

Tragedy didn’t say anything, he just stared at Bec, judgingly.

“Hey, listen, I can ask about these things. My dick’s unique.”

Tragedy sat for a moment, before deciding to ask. “...D’thee even have a penis?” He gestured to Bec’s crotch area. “There’s nothin’ there.”

Bec chuckled. “That’s one of the things that makes it unique. Carapacian dicks are retractable. Only come out when aroused.”

…

Tragedy paused. “...That it?”

Bec smirked. “Nah, that ain’t all. It can knot.”

_…!_ Tragedy felt… strange, upon hearing that. He continued. “Is that… normal, for Carapacians?”

“Nope, has to do with my prototypin’.”

Tragedy didn’t even bother to ask what that meant. He just… sat there.

After a couple of seconds of silence, Bec spoke up.

“Y’know, if you wanna see my cock, y’can just try to turn me on. Y’don’t gotta stare at it.”

Tragedy looked up. Fitting his theme, he looked very similar to the flushed emoji. He knew he was zoning out, and that he was thinking about it, but he didn’t realize he was looking at the spot.

“...Okay.” Tragedy said. Fuck, where does he even start with this?

...Might as well start off with the most obvious.

Tragedy took off his hat.

“Oh, shit, hat’s off, that’s _really_ gonna—“ Tragedy took off his vest, his gloves, his shoes, his socks, his shirt, and his pants.

“...You gonna take the boxers off, too?” Bec asked.

Tragedy sat down. “I dunno. Why should I? ‘Cause thou want to?” He leaned back.

“I ain’t just throwin’ myself at thee.” He said, completely unaware of the fact that is quite literally what he was doing.

Bec stared.

...Tragedy realized something.

Bec’s demeanor. His attitude towards everything. He’s a mobster, he’s a strong, powerful man, who acts like he came right out of the 1920’s-30’s.

...He’s a dom.

Upon realizing this, Tragedy changed his tune. “I mean, thee’re not putting the effort I need thee to put into this. I need thou to be forceful, Sir. Command me to go nude.”

Bec grinned when Tragedy said this. “Alright, then. Take your fucking boxers off.”

“Yes, Sir.” Tragedy said, stripping his boxers off.

His genitalia looked distinctly alien. It looked like a vagina, for the most part, except the clitoris was a tentacle, about six inches long, and was burgundy in color. A fluid dripped from it, and Tragedy realized something.

_...I’m actually into this. Fuck._

Bec stared at it. “...Wasn’t expectin’ that, but it ain’t half bad. Show me how you use it. Masturbate in front of me.”

Tragedy reached down to the tentacle. He slowly began to rub it with one finger. He used his other hand to finger his cunthole, slowly inserting it. A similar fluid to the one his tentacle was dripping out was coming out, too, lubricating his fingers.

Tragedy’s breathing got heavier and heavier as he continued, the pleasure growing and growing. Finally, he was about to reach the peak point and climax, but right as he was about to cum—

“Stop,” Bec commanded. “I’ve seen enough to know what I need to do.”

Tragedy begrudgingly removed his fingers from his pussy, and stopped jacking himself off. He looked frustrated.

“...Oh, were you about to cum?” Bec smirked. “Sorry about that.”

Tragedy scowled, before noticing that Bec’s cock was out. Oh. Oh.

Saying it was sizable would be a bit of an understatement. Eyeballing it, Tragedy would have said that it was about nine inches long.

“I,” Bec began, “am going to be responsible for every orgasm you’re allowed to have.”

Bec moved in front of Tragedy. “‘Ssumin’ you’re down for this?”

“...Yes.”

“Alright, got it.” Bec shoved Tragedy onto the bed. He quickly shoved his cock into Tragedy, with an almost animalistic way of fucking him. He was incredibly rough, and he behaved in a way that seemed like he did not care about Tragedy’s pleasure, and Tragedy loved it.

Although it seemed like it, Bec was not solely looking for his own pleasure. No, Bec was constantly hitting the right spots, seemingly knowing exactly what to do.

“O-oh, fuck, Bec!” Tragedy shouted. The formerly reserved cowboy had been turned into a horny mess, begging for more and more of Bec’s cock. “Gah— fuck, right there!”

And Bec loved it. Bec was proud of his work.

Unsurprisingly, the first time Tragedy came, it was a couple of minutes into the act. After all, he was just edged.

But, even then, Tragedy wanted more. His body screamed out in arousal. Tragedy didn’t want Bec, he needed him, and he needed him more than anything else.

Tragedy’s hands were gripping the sheets. That is, until Bec took out a tentacle, and bound them together.

Tragedy got wetter. He was surprised that he loved this so much — being treated like a useless fucktoy that only existed for Bec’s pleasure felt so good.

“A-ah, B-Bec!”

“...Tragedy.”

Tragedy perked up at his name. “Y-yes, Sir?”

“Don’t say a fucking word.”

Tragedy stopped for a moment, panting, wondering if he could really do it. ...He then realized that, even if he couldn’t, he didn’t have a choice in a matter.

“Yes, S-Sir.”

Bec continued his animalistic fucking of Tragedy. The truth is, is that Bec loved to hear Tragedy’s moans… but he’d love to see Tragedy squirm even more.

...And that’s exactly what Tragedy was doing. Twisting and biting his lip and trying, trying so, so hard not to let his moans come out.

It’s exactly what Bec wanted.

“A-ah, Bec!—“ Tragedy closed his mouth shut, but Bec heard him.

Bec stopped moving.

“What did I say?”

“N-not ta’ talk, Sir. I’m sorry, Si—“

Bec smacked Tragedy. “I don’t care. I didn’t ask.”

“You fucked up.”

Tragedy nodded his head in response.

“Y’know what that means, bitch?”

Tragedy’s tentacle dick twitched in response to the insult. “W-what does it mean, Sir?”

“You get punished.”

Bec pulled out his cock.

“Don’t do a fucking thing.”

He teleported away.

Tragedy laid there. Despite his body’s demands for pleasure, that it was screaming out for stimulation… Tragedy didn’t do anything. He waited.

Bec teleported back in, lube in hand.

“...Huh. Looks like you didn’t do anything. Surprisin’, considerin’ your lack of restraint.” Bec paused.

“...Not complainin’, though. You’re a good fucktoy, when you actually behave.”

The “compliment” made Tragedy feel warm and fuzzy on the inside, for reasons he could not fathom.

And then Bec flipped Tragedy over.

Using his tentacles, Bec put Tragedy facedown on the bed. He brought out the lube, put some on a tentacle, and started to apply it to Tragedy’s asshole. Tragedy’s back shivered in response.

After applying a proper amount, Bec started teasing Tragedy with the tentacle, always pretending it would enter, but then removing it at the last second. Tragedy whimpered.

“Aw, do you want it?” Bec laughed. “No, not yet. I don’t wanna just shove somethin’ in there — y’could get hurt.” Strange, because during the rest of the night, Bec didn’t seem to care if it’d hurt or not.

After about thirty minutes of teasing and preparation, Bec removed the tentacle, and made it disappear. He then took out two more, using one to bind Tragedy’s arms together. The other rammed into Tragedy’s pussy.

Before Tragedy could recover from the shock, Bec shoved his cock in Tragedy’s ass, too, in a way that could only be described as complete animalistic lust.

“Feel free to yell my name as much as you want, now, fuckhole.”

Tragedy didn’t hesitate.

Tragedy wasn’t sure if the feeling of intoxication was from the alcohol, or from the pleasure he was experiencing. He settled on both.

To say that Tragedy was moaning would be an understatement. He was almost screaming in ecstasy.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ into this. Fuckin’ whore, gettin’ into bed with a stranger. N’ look at you. Y’love gettin’ your fuckholes filled, don’t you?” Bec grabbed Tragedy’s ass. “Y’might wanna quiet down, bitch. These walls ain’t soundproof.”

Tragedy bit his lip back, trying to quiet down.

“...Jesus Christ, you’re tryin’ t’be quieter, n’ you’re still loud as fuck. You really want this, huh?”

There was just… so much happening to him, in that very moment. Bec’s power over him, the double penetration, it was overwhelming him, in the best way possible. He was going to cum—

Tragedy noticed a sudden increase of what he was taking from behind. Bec’s cock suddenly felt much thicker, and Tragedy loved it.

“A-ah, f-fuck, yes!”

Bec’s animalistic fucking got rougher, much to Tragedy’s pleasure.

Tragedy completely dissolved in pleasure. “O-oh, fuck, Bec, please, yes, just like that!” He cried out.

Bec took out another tentacle, and used it to stroke Tragedy’s tentacle dick.

Bec didn’t get too much time to play with it, though, because Tragedy came almost immediately upon his tentadick being stimulated.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, yes, B-Bec!” Tragedy moaned, feeling Bec’s cock fill his ass with cum. Bec moaned, before panting.

“F-fuck, Tragedy, you’re tight.” Bec removed his now flaccid cock out of Tragedy’s ass. Bec removed his tentacles, and Tragedy flopped down on the bed, also panting.

Bec laid down on the bed, next to Tragedy.

…

They could clean up later.

Chris McKuma looked at Bec’s cabin camera. He wasn’t being especially creepy towards Bec, or anything — he did this for everyone.

And, sometimes, he’d get a treasure.

…

No, he wasn’t jacking off.

“Sweet, blackmail material!” McKuma said, saving the snippet of the cabin recording where Bec and Tragedy fucked.

“...”

“Call that a horndog.”

“...”

“...I’m so lonely.”


End file.
